


the twisting way to the easy road

by badAquatic



Series: Trailerstuck [69]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, Discussion of Exploitation, Discussion of Sexual Slavery, F/M, Grubs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 15:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2587061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badAquatic/pseuds/badAquatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monday morning is miserable: foggy, raining, and cold. Three months into autumn and you miss the obnoxious summer humidity. There is no way you’re bothering with school or anything today.</p><p>Sollux Captor struggles with surviving parasites and becomes an uncle all in the same moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a monday outing

**== >Sollux: Despise Monday **

Monday morning is miserable: foggy, raining, and cold. Three months into autumn and you miss the obnoxious summer humidity. There is no way you’re bothering with school or anything today. You slept horribly. Without electricity, your recuperacoon is full of cold and tacky slime so you had to sleep on your daybed. Eridan slept out in the living room with the eggs. You hear him clattering around the trailer early in the morning but don’t get up from the bed.

This trailer is poorly insulated. You can hear everything going on, from your mother coughing to Mituna pestering Eridan.

Eventually Eridan comes to your doorway. “Sol?” You grunt, pulling the blanket over your head. Eridan moves closer and tugs the blanket. “Sol, _get up._ It’s almost nine.”

“I’m _sick_.” You insist, tightening your grip on the blankets. “I’m not getting out of this bed. I don’t care if it’s the end of the world.” You yawn, “Wake me up after everyone’s dead and the strong are cannibalizing the weak and the machines rule.”

“You were sick all yesterday. I bet you’re fine now after chugging all those meds.” Eridan says, continuing to pull on the blanket. “C’mon, Sol! You need to help me charge the batteries! My wrist can only take so much cranking!”  

“Fuck you, fish lips. I have to get up at seven every damn day. I’m sleeping in.” You hiss.

Eridan relents, grumbling. “ _Fine_ , but you owe me _big_.”

“I always seem to.”

Just as you’re starting to drift back to sleep, your iHusk plays _Goodnight Demon Slayer_ ,so Aradia is calling. You grab the phone and pulling it under the covers with you.

“Sollux! _It happened!_ ” Aradia squeals in your ear.

“You finally realized that Equius’s wall of horse-clocks is creepy and you’re divorcing him?” you mutter.

“No, we decided that if he can have a wall of horse-clocks, I can keep all my specimens.” Aradia says, “Themma hatched this morning! She’s so _cute_ , Sollux!”

“Oh.” You sit up, tossing the blankets off. “Holy shit, Aradia. How is she?”

“Loud. Listen!”

“Wait, no--”

The phone echoes with high pitched squeaking, growling, and then the sound of Aradia’s iHusk being attacked by tiny teeth, interspersed with “Themma!” and “ _No_!”.

“What going on?” Eridan asks, frowning.

“Themma hatched.” You tell him.

“I wanna see!” Eridan whines. 

“You have to watch Dmitry and Suxxor.”

Eridan pouts, “I can bring them!”

“They’re _eggs_ , ED, and I doubt you’re willing to traverse all this mud and garbage with them. You won’t even let me get too close to them.”

Eridan’s pout intensifies and he leaves the bedroom. Eventually Aradia wrestles the phone away from Themma. “She’s attacking everything in sight.” Aradia says.

“That’s really cute. I’ll call KK and see if he wants to come fawn over the first of many offspring.” You say.

“You should see Equius attempt to pacify Themma. She’s bitten six of his fingers so far.” You hear Equius yelp in the background. “Make that seven.”

“I’ll be there soon.” You hang up and go to the living room. Eridan is pouring in half-melted ice in Dmitry’s tray. Suxxor is bundled in your shirts.

“The temperature in the freezer’s going up. Maybe I’d be better off just putting Dmitry inside there.” Eridan sighs.

“The power’s supposed to be coming on later today. If not, I can buy a bag of ice from…” You then recall the power in your area is out. “Shit. What about using cold wet rags? Would that keep his temperature down?”

“Maybe, but it would have to be a lot and most of our towels are dirty. There’s still a mountain of laundry to do.” Eridan tugs on his plaid shirt. “I’ve been wearing this since the Cherubs attack.”

“Luckily I didn’t notice since the rest of your fish odor complimented it.” You say. Eridan growls and hits you in the shoulder. “I’m heading out to see Themma. I’ll take plenty of pictures.”

“You better.” Eridan grumbles, “Suxxor is hatching next month and Dmitry won’t hatch until January. That means Suxxor is going to have only Themma to play with.”

Oh gods. You hope Suxxor doesn’t become good friends with Themma and insists on hanging out with the Troll Addams Family. You don’t think you could tolerate constant play dates at that place. You turn on the generator so you can take a warm shower. Your clothes are all dirty so you Febreeze up one of Mituna’s COD shirts and call Karkat. Karkat must be sleeping in too because he’s yawning and grumbling just as you were at Eridan.

“This _better_ be good...” he grunts.

“Themma hatched.” you say, “You want to go fawn over Aradia and her kid?”

“Oh. Sure. I need to get out of the trailer anyways.” Karkat calls in the background, “Who wants to see a cute grub?” There’s a clatter, conversation, sarcastic remarks, and Karkat reports back, “Dave and John want out too. How are you doing?”

“Better. Still have a rash and I can’t eat anything without my stomach cramping but it’s an improvement over yesterday’s shitfest.”

“ _Ew_ …”

“Oh please, KK. You’ve said _so much worse_ over the time I’ve known you. I’ll at your trailer in twenty. You should have pulled something over your wide ass by then.”

“My ass isn’t wide!”

You hang up on him, snickering. Its rather pitch of you but your interactions with KK are strictly platonic. You don’t think you could quadrant with him without it ending in a disaster, with you both flipping between red and black so fast it would make Nepeta’s head spin. You shuffle into jeans (which also get doused with Febreeze) and head outside.

You borrow your mother’s car and have to drive to avoid the garbage trucks slowly inching down the road. Workers in neon-yellow and orange uniforms sift through the mud, picking up the trash. You’re just glad they’re not carrying guns or jammers. Even with the garbage getting picked up, you doubt the stench will ever leave this neighborhood.  

When you get to the Strider-Harley-Vantas-English trailer (or SHEV trailer, as the rest of you are starting to call it), Karkat is arguing in the doorway with Dave and John across from him. 

“—send you pictures of the stupid grub.” Karkat concludes.

“Jade, you should stay off your feet.” Dave says. Both humans look pale with bags under their eyes. “I have _no idea_ how you’re still able to walk around normally at this point.”

Jade voice comes from inside the trailer, huffing. “I hate being stuck inside all day is why!”

You honk the car, yelling out the window. “Hey, Tits McGee!”

Karkat looks over. “Yeah?” You start laughing and Karkat yells, “Fuck you, Captor! Fuck you sideways with your two bulges!”

“ _Two_?” John asks, eyes wide.

“Oh yeah. It’s not _just_ a rumor.” You laugh.

“Damn son.” Dave mutters.

Karkat rolls his eyes and walks toward the car. “It’s not _that_ big of a deal.”

The short trip in your car is spent arguing between Karkat and you about how much of a big deal your twin-bulges. Dave jokes about your duality obsession and John sits quietly and looks as if he’s contemplating his choice in friends. The Zahhak-Megido trailer is crowded with cars in front of it so you’re not the only family to have arrived. The outside of the trailer is still decorated for Eldritch Night with plastic skeletons in the window and felt bats hanging on the doorway. With the windows dark, the trailer actually looks abandoned and haunted. You knock and Equius answers, bandaging yet another finger.  

“Glad you came.” He looks at his fingers, sighing, “And now I’m down _two_ fingers.”

“Does that mean she’s strong as her Dad?” you ask.

“No, my skin isn’t difficult to penetrate.” Equius answers, “A simple blow to the back of the head or crushing my windpipe would succeed in killing me.”

“Why do you know that…?” Dave mutters.

Karkat rolls his eyes. “Sometimes it’s better not to know, Strider. Let us in, horse-fondler.”

Equius lets you inside the crowded living room. Aradia is holding a ragged towel which a dark grub is pulling on. The grub is big as a newborn kitten with a fat face and dark red eyes with a sweater wrapped around them. Finally Themma rips the rag and starts eating her piece.

“Hey! _No_! Don’t _eat_ the towel!” Aradia says, trying to pull the tear away from Themma. Themma hisses and refuses to let go.

“So this is Themma?” Dave asks, snapping a picture of the grub.

Aradia wrestles the towel away from the grub and scoops her up, kissing the grub on the horns. “Aww, you just wanna fight all the things you little cutie.” Themma huffs and she looks at Dave. “Do grubs look weird to humans?”

 

 

“Sort of.” Dave admits.

“They’re like halfway between animals and infants.” John says, “I can’t tell who she looks like more.”

You squint at Themma’s hooded eyes and flaxen hair. “Equius.”

“Seriously? Is another troll power telling who grubs look like?” Dave asks.  

“She has Equius’s hairline and eye shape.” Rufioh says. He pokes Themma’s nose. “Isn’t that right? You’re Daddy’s cute— _ow_!” Themma bites the intruding finger, growling. Rufioh yanks his hand away. “Okay, her teeth hurt a lot more than I thought they would.”

“Wait until Khanie hatches.” You snicker, “Maybe she’ll have Karkat’s overbite.”

“My overbite is not as bad as Tavros’s.” Karkat says, “Where is he by the way?”

“Still sick.” Equius says, handing a teething ring to Themma. The grub wiggles her small useless limbs at it but Aradia has to hand it to her. “We’re just lucky we didn’t catch anything and Themma hatched healthily.”

“Did you fill out your incident report?” Rufioh asks.

Conversation bounces between Themma being cute to local news. During the lull Equius turns on the battery operated TV to CNN. CNN is still covering your neighborhood, now showing live footage of garbage men cleaning it up.

 _“What you see here is the minor amount of footage the local police will allow us to cover as the media blackout continues.”_ says the reporter, _“Rutledge Pollution Mechanical, commonly known as Rutpol, has finally stepped in to alleviate this neighborhood’s overwhelming trash problem. The trash here has been built up since the summer garbage strike, which lasted well over for two months. The strike ended when…”_

“Way to educate people on what _we already know_.” Karkat grunts.

“How long can the police keep this media blackout going?” John asks.

“They’re leaking _some_ information.” Equius says, “I’m just glad they’re finally doing something about it.”

The coverage moves to new gun control laws being drafted for New Jack City, including harsher penalties for humans caught gunrunning and trolls affiliated with organized crime. There is also the discussion of grant money coming from the Interspecies Alliance toward creating jobs for troll felons.

 _“The majority of these gangs—the Capricorn Brotherhood for instance—rely on low income coldbloods for most of their workforce.”_ says a bespectacled purpleblood, _“Because these purplebloods don’t have other employment opportunities, they are more than willing to accept the harshest and most dangerous jobs just to provide for their large families. By the federal government supplying jobs for this class, it would cut the Brotherhood’s employment pull in half at the_ least _.”_

“Well isn’t that amazing: a _purpleblood_ scholar.” Karkat snorts.

“There are plenty of purpleblood scholars.” Nepeta insists, glaring at Karkat.

“And I’m the Archduchess of Shongolia.” Karkat says.

“She’s right, your majesty,” John says, “In the East Coast there’s a depletion of income toward purplebloods but if you head out to the Deep South along the New Mehican board, it’s mostly coldbloods. There are coldblood colleges and art communities that thrive out there.”

 _“Told you.”_ Nepeta growls.

Aranea and Horuss arrive, bringing presents for their grandchild/grandniece. Rufioh’s irritated because no one else brought gifts and this spirals into an argument between Horuss and him. Equius awkwardly tries to change the subject back to the news rather. Some of you move onto the back porch with Aradia while Equius deals with the inter-family squabble. Strider and you hang back and watch Karkat try to hold Themma, counting every time the mutantblood gets bitten.

“How’s your co-Dad doing?” you ask.

Dave sighs. “I don’t know. I…can’t _see_ him at the hospital. He got fucked up really bad and seeing him like that is really weird for me. He lost his eye too.”

“ _Jegus_.” You mutter. “He can’t get a cloned or cybernetic one?”

“Cloned organs are expensive and Jake has to be conscious to agree to getting a hunk of metal shoves in his head.”

“How’s Dirk handling it?”

“I have no idea.”

“You haven’t _talked_ to him?”

Dave makes a wishy-washy gesture. “It’s… _weird_ talking about problems. Striders aren’t touchy feely about issues. The Strider motto is that we put all our feelings in _here_ ”—he points to his chest—“and then one day we’ll die.”

And you thought _your_ family was closed off when it came to dealing with problems. You pat Dave on the shoulder. “Dirk seems like a tough guy though. You’re sure he’s fine.”

Dave shrugs indifferently. You have no idea if you’re being comforting or not. Your minds are taken off the gloomy subject when Themma succeeds in biting Karkat for the tenth time.


	2. an overdue confrontation

**== >Dave: Be your Bro for a short while**

 

You return to your trailer after visiting Jake in the hospital. You sat in a rigid chair for an hour, holding Jake’s hand as the doctors asked you about what procedures you’re going to choose. You don’t know what to do about Jake’s condition because you have no idea how he’ll view the damage. Will he laugh this off or lament? Just thinking about it makes you paralyzed. All you could do is nod and mumble in agreement with the doctor.

Jane is still unconscious but she’s healing faster than Jake is. She’ll bear those facial scars for the rest of her life but no one is going to think of any less of her for them. She managed to hurt Joan, a feat you don’t think Grandpa Harley accomplished before the cybernetic murdered him. She was fearless and for that you want to hug her as soon as she wakes up.

When you arrive home, the bottom level of the trailer is dark and you hear Jade’s snoring through the boarded up windows. You haven’t been inside the bottom section since Jake’s injury because you can’t face Dave. You don’t know what to say about this so it’s best to avoid it for now. You go up to the second story and make yourself ramen using a portable cooking stove. It’s loaded with salt and negligible nutrition but it’s keep you alive, so who gives a fuck? You’ve lived off of worse.   

You sit on the couch and eat your lunch, which is where you’ve been sleeping. After the first night without Jake, it’s unbearable to stay in the bedroom.  You’ve been trying to keep yourself busy, reading books on parenting and raising trolls while being human. You’ve tried to stay busy but most of the time you just stare at the wall and think.

You should have been the one who got hurt. Everyone could move on better without you. Jake can comfort people far better than you ever could. Now Dave’ stuck with you and your fumbling attempts to talk about this. You can’t talk to anyone about this mess, not even Roxy. She’s your friend but there will always be a barrier there given your shared history. Maybe you should find someone to talk to, but what would be the point? You’d never open up…if only…

“As usual you’re avoiding the problem, Diedrick.” You hear that silken, laidback voice drip in your head. It’s Sawtooth and even though he’s been dead for years, he still has a charming voice. The voice of a horny teenager with too much charisma and little restraint. “‘Maybes’ never matter in the grand scheme of things because you can’t ‘maybe’ a problem away.”

You are fourteen again, sitting on the edge of the cot and unsure of how to feel about what just happened. Sawtooth is on the opposite side, writing in his little black book. He told you it was for spy operation ideas--his little dossier of espionage--but you found out (much too late) it was a list of all his sexual conquests and how he would toy with you.

You’re young and your stomach is in knots. “What if the director finds out? Maybe…we shouldn’t have gone this far.”

“But we did, so there’s no turning back.” Sawtooth said, not looking up, “The future is for us and the past is for the dead. Stop worrying so much, Diedrick, and lay back down.”

You gathered your clothes and left Sawtooth’s room. It hurt to walk and you hated yourself. It was bad sex and a bad relationship but you didn’t know that at the time.

Fuck Sawtooth.

Sergei you don’t consider to be a relationship. It was an abortive attempt for you to explore kismesistude and ease Sawtooth out of your life. Sergei cheated on you constantly. The mutantblood looked up to Sawtooth and emulated him but he lacked Sawtooth’s charm. Sawtooth cheated because he enjoyed manipulating you. Sergei did it just to see if he could get away with it, like a child smacking a toy against the floor to see when it would break. You knew he was cheating but ignored it. Then you caught Sergei bulge-deep in a prostitute and that was the end.

You don’t know how Meliak keeps Sergei from running out of control but you suspect Meliak wields the same control over Sergei that Sawtooth had over you. Meliak wouldn’t tolerate cheating. He’d shoot Sergei first. Now Sergei won’t talk to you at all and you have no interest putting up with his pissy attitude at the bar.

Fuck Sergei.

Hal had been the one to wipe away Sawtooth and Sergei’s influences: great at sex but refusing to commit. In Leder, commitment was out of the question unless you liked harassment, unemployment, and unsolved murder. Hal liked his freedom and bachelorhood. Being married to Roxy didn’t stop you from seeing him but an argument about the future did. He left Leder on an international scholarship just before things turned bad.

Fuck Hal.

And Jake you love more than you can bear. He’s the only man you’ll ever love.

And Kankri was—

And Kankri is—

Kankri is nothing because you were never in a relationship and you never will be. Jake will always be in your life, whether he’s here or not.

You finish your ramen and just put the cups on the floor with all the others. You lie down at the couch and stare at the ceiling, not wanting to move ever again. There’s a knock at the door but you don’t care who it is. You feel too tired to put up with anyone today or for the rest of the week. You shut your eyes and

There’s a knock at the door. You don’t care who it is. You suddenly feel very tired; too tired to deal with any neighbors and would-be relatives. You shut your eyes and pull a blanket around you.

“Dirk!” The voice is irritated but you don’t care who it is. Sooner or later, they’ll leave. “Dirk, open this damn door!”

You shut your eyes and wait for the noise to subside. You start to drift off to sleep, seeing Jake’s face, when you hear a crack. You sit up and knock over ramen cups as you grab a katana. The door swings open with the lock splintered and cracked. Kankri stomps inside your trailer, panting.  

“You fucking idiot!” Kankri says, “What do you think you’re doing? Everyone’s worried about you!”

You growl and lay back down. “You owe me a new door.”

Kankri walks to the couch. “Get _up_ , Dirk.”

“Fuck you.” you growl.

“Get up!”Kankri snarls and grabs your leg. You forgot how strong Kankri is when he’s determined because he moved you off the couch with one good yank. You fall on the ground, scattering books and ramen cups. Kankri frowns, looking around. “Jegus, this place is a shithole, Dirk.”  

“Get the fuck off of me, Kankri!” you yell.

“Not until you stop acting like a melodramatic idiot!”

“Fuck you! I didn’t ask you come to here!”

“I know that, but no one else is coming to deal with your bullshit, you dick, so _I’m_ here!”

You kick him, sinking your foot in his stomach. “You’re the fucking dick!”

Kankri gags, looks close to vomiting, but he steadies himself. He tries to pull you off the floor but you fight him tooth and nail. Still, you must be weak from lack of proper food and sleep because Kankri (of all the fucking trolls) manages to pin you. Kankri sits on your waist and holds your arms until you stop thrashing. You glare up at him with all your hatred, panting. Kankri glares back—bruised and battered but refusing to relent.

“How long were you planning to do this to yourself?” he asks.

“Fuck _off_ , Kankri.” you answer.

Kankri rolls his eyes. “Such a child.” He gets off of you but retains his death grip on your wrists. He tugs but you go limp, refusing to cooperate. Kankri glares at you. “Strider, I may not look like much but you know I’m strong when I want to be; _especially_ when I’m angry. You either use the legs that you have or I’m throwing you in the bathtub because you stink like a pile of week-old blueblood socks.”

It’s not like he smells any better, Febreeze or not. Your answer is a hate-filled scowl and refusing to cooperate because fuck him. Kankri rolls his eyes but he won’t give up as easily as you hoped. He huffs and puffs but manages to drag you across the floor into the bathroom. He leaves you on the floor while Kankri goes through your closet.

He grumbles about it, loudly. “I can’t fucking believe this. Cronus had to take care of _me_. Now I have to take care of _you_. Time’s Clockworks’s ironic dickery is afoot.” He pulls a towel out of the closet and walks over to you.  “Do you want me to leave so you can get undressed or do I have to undress you too? Because I’ll do it. I used to bathe Karkat and I figure it’s the same with you. Just bigger and angrier.”

You sit up off the floor. “I’d rather you leave and keep leaving until you’re back in your own fucking trailer because I don’t need you to come in here with your caring bullshit. What are you trying to fucking do? You think that because you kissed me and were pals for a day that we’re BFFs? _Fuck you_ , Kankri. I’m not a project you can work on and ease your guilt about how badly you fucked up your life. You get off on this don’t you? You get off on me being a fucking mess so you can feel like the bigger man! Fuck you, Kankri! Fuck you! _Fuck you! **Fuck you!**_ ”

You scream your throat raw, your entire body shaking. Kankri doesn’t scream back. He stares at you impassively. You want him to scream back. You want him to throw you into the wall. You want your head to crack and blood to leak onto the linoleum, like Jake’s cracked skull on the wood floor. You’ll be unconscious for weeks and you won’t have to go through the pain of not having Jake with you.

“Dirk,” Kankri says and his voice is drained of all emotions, “I know you’re going through a tough time. I know it’s not easy to have someone you love in the hospital. It’s uneasy not knowing if they’re going to wake up or if they’ll be handicapped for the rest of their life. It’s _hard_ , Dirk. It’s very, _very_ hard when someone you love is hurt.

“So I _don’t_ understand, Dirk. I _don’t_ understand how you feel and what you’re going through. What I _do_ understand, Dirk, is pain. I’ve been dragged through pain all my life. I know when people are in pain and when they don’t act on that pain, because pain makes you lose control. Pain makes you scream when you want to cry and cry when you want to scream. Pain makes you behave in ways that are completely batshit and people say that about you but you’re not batshit, Dirk. You’re hurting and hurt _eats_ at you like locusts in a big fruitful field. Hurt will _devour_ everything you have ever loved and every principle you have ever held. That’s what it will do if you don’t _get off_ your melodramatic horse and suck it the _fuck_ _up_. You are not dead. _Jake_ is not dead. You are an adult and you have to deal with an ugly reality. Take off your clothes and get into that shower before I _throw_ you in.”

You wish he had hit you instead. You wish he had smashed you into the ground instead of talking to you like this. You would have tolerated another fist fight better than this.

“Leave.” You hiss.

Kankri leaves, shutting the door behind him. You hate him. You hate him more than anyone in the world. You’re grinding your teeth as you peel off your sweaty shirt and clothes, tossing them into the hamper. You take a cold shower and use focus on the sound of the shower. You wrap yourself in a bathrobe afterwards and see Kankri outside the door.  

“Do you have spare clothes?” Kankri asks.

“Yes.” You mutter, walking to the bedroom and not looking at him.

While you dress, you hear Kankri cleaning up the trailer because he’s a nosy busybody. He doesn’t bother salvaging your clothes from the conflict. They go into the garbage with ramen and mac ‘n’ cheese cups. You leave the bedroom, having changed into your only clean shirt and black jeans. Kankri, having gathered the rest of the garbage, starts sweeping the carpet.

“When are you fucking leaving?” you growl.

“Nice to know a shower didn’t improve your attitude.” Kankri says indifferently.

“Because you’re still here. Kankri.”

“ _Someone_ has to check up on you.” Kankri gestures to the living room which is not even a quarter cleaned yet. “I think I came just in time, honestly. I thought you’d be a little more resolute than this about Jake’s injury.”

“Nice to know we’re _both_ disappointed in me.” You sit on the couch and wait for him to leave.

Kankri continues sweeping. “This is about more than just what happened to Jake.”

“Nice that you noticed the obvious, Sherlock. Why don’t you use your unhelpful deductive reasoning to crack the case?” you grumble.

“Dirk, why are you punishing yourself? This is like before.”

“Before what?”

“Before Jake came. Before you got to know my father. This is how you were just after Leder.” Kankri moves close to you but you inch away, glaring at him. Kankri sighs and moves away, returning to sweeping. “You didn’t want people to touch or notice you. You just wanted to disappear.”

You don’t like to think about the time after Leder. You had spent weeks in the New Jack refugee shelters, getting checked out and notarized before you were shoved into the grungy motels. You only found housing because you had Dave and he was mutant but still human. The state was sympathetic to your cause. You went days without sleep because you were so scared of someone recognizing him or getting your throats cut.

As if reading your mind, Kankri says, “My father missed you. I knew he wouldn’t say it but he liked your company. Your situation in Leder is why father and Meliak had their falling out.”

You hadn’t expected that and you don’t know where he’s going with this revelation. “And you know about this how…?” you ask, cautiously.

Kankri blushes. “He was in my quadrants, Dirk. I hated my father immensely but I always knew what went on in his life. This happened…about two years before my drinking. Our relationship was in the golden age and life couldn’t have been better.” He smiles sadly. “Those years with my father were the happiest time of my life until now.” 

“So what do you know?” You had only speculated on the nature of Signless’s falling out since neither Meliak nor Sergei would divulge the truth.

“Father and Meliak had been friends since his arrival in New Jack City. They came from similar backgrounds: both strong trolls who had been victimized by highbloods all their lives. Meliak had been sold into sexual slavery as a child. Being with my father helped him cope with those dark times. They were good friends for many years…but Meliak always had a dark side. He liked having power more than aiding his fellow mutantbloods; the same power that was wielded over him when he was young. He joined in with the Trussian mafia, who were trying to make a more of a presence in New Jack at that time. My father hated organized crime but he turned a blind eye to it. My father loved everything Trussian, you see. Trussia was his dream: a country controlled by mutantbloods where hemotype didn’t matter and everyone was equal. He thought that the Trussian mafia would be different and would work toward helping their community, like the Capricorn Brotherhood aided the purpleblood community.”

You frown. “Sounds rather naïve of your father.”

 

 

Kankri smiles sadly. “My father was _never_ infallible. He could be naïve and hold onto grudges and opinions long after people were dead. It was impossible to change his mind about anything. He tolerated the Trussians because in the beginning they weren’t so bad. They made bootlegs for fashion corps and sold taxless weed and cigarettes. Their works were treated respectfully, better than the corp sweatshops.” He chuckles. “I’m sure if my father was alive now, he’d deny such things happened up and down like a stubborn little boy.”

“The Trussians couldn’t have been making a lot of money doing that.”

“Oh, they made money. It just wasn’t enough.” Kankri shakes his head. “It’s _never_ enough for a criminal’s mind. The first nail in the coffin came on a boat: the Leder refugees like you and the others. As you know most of the surviving Leder coldbloods were children or teenagers, abandoned and frightened by what this new country would bring. The Leder trolls were already small and timid and here, Meliak saw a golden opportunity. The Trussians started to recruit trolls, promising coldbloods a safe place to stay and citizenship marriages.

“The Trussians would house up to ten coldblood children in an Aniline End apartment and would work them in shifts; parading them around the city at truck stops, basements, motels, hotels, and apartments. Others would be adopted by Trussian families with 24 hour webcams hooked into their bedrooms and bathrooms. Those webcams made millions; more money than all the drugs and bootlegging combined. The clever exploitation shot Meliak up the ladder within the gang and made him very rich.”

You inhale slowly, straightening your posture from an angry slouch to upright and interesting. When Kankri smiles slyly, you retreat back to a hated, hunched position. The fucking bastard knows you’re hard wired for new information.

“All Meliak’s idea, huh?” you ask.

Kankri nods. “Every gang was already in the warmblood prostitute game but it was impossible to do the coldblood one because Canzians coldbloods are hard to control. You had to find one small, timid, and desperate…like the ones in Leder.”

“How did your father find out?”

“My father has a nose for secrets. He had been helping Leder refugees, at first only wanting to aid the trolls but he developed a soft spot for everyone’s suffering. One day, he overheard refugees talking about selling their children to the Trussians. My father went to Meliak and there an argument ensued. I wasn’t there for the confrontation but I saw the aftermath. My father came home late, poured himself some vodka, sat in his favorite chair, and spent the evening drinking. He only did such a thing when he was troubled. I left him alone that evening as he needed red and pale for that night and I wasn’t going to stick around for when he exploded. The next day he told me to avoid the Trussians and said he was going abroad for a while.”

“Do you know where he went?”

Kankri shakes his head. “He didn’t tell anyone where he went but he was gone for a while. When he came back, he was more at ease. He wasn’t angry, just disappointed and ashamed. He told me what had happened and he looked so…heartbroken admitting that Meliak had let his vascular pump go dark.” He shuts his eyes. “My father hated coldbloods but even he didn’t want to see _anyone_ suffer like that.”

Harqun will be very interested to learn this, if she hasn’t already. You manage to smile. “We should have made you an inquisitor, Kankri.”

Kankri blinks. “What?”

“Never mind.” That’s going to be a long explanation for the future. “Would you happen to know what Signless said to Meliak to get the Trussians to agree to the truce?”

Kankri shakes his head. “I didn’t know anything about the truce until you told me. I figure that maybe it was pity. A long time ago, Meliak and father were good friends. I suspect that if things hadn’t gone so wrong, they would have been moirails. I think Meliak still respects and misses my father.” Kankri’s eyes narrow. “Meliak and Sergei are psychopaths and of what degree, I don’t know. They’ve both been hurt but they have no problem inflicting that same hurt on others. They lack empathy because the pain ate it.”

You think of Sergei being dragged along on that mission, allowing him to be abducted and used like a toy all for the sake of Trussia. He was only fourteen, and they made him go through with that. 

“Abuse will do that to you.” you conclude. “I…usually don’t have problems like this. I usually have a coping mechanism for situations like this.” You glare at Kankri. “Yes, I know I was punishing myself. You don’t have to say it.”

“What’s your coping mechanism?” He sounds skeptical.

“Making smuppets. I made plush toys in Leder but the machines did everything. All I had to do was maintain them. One day I wasn’t paying attention, my machine jammed, and the toy came out wrong. It was ugly and botched but it…made me laugh. So I started taking scrap fabric and stuffing home and making smuppets on my own. Even after Leder I still made smuppets. Such a weird little thing made me feel almost…normal.”

 

 

Kankri stares at you. You stare back at him.

After a minute, he snickers. “Oh my gods. That explains so much! I thought you were a plushophile but that’s so…Dirk, that’s so _nice._ I’m glad smuppets make you happy.”

A loud hum fills the trailer, followed by rapid clicking. The lights flicker and finally turn on, brightening the whole room. Downstairs, electricity buzzes as power returns.

Kankri smiles. “Looks like the power’s returned.”

“ _Finally_ ,” you sigh.

Kankri rubs his chin, pondering. “You know, this is really a big deal and I’ve been rather bored just sitting around the house. Maybe we should just do something.”

“Like what?”

Kankri smiles. “Have you ever thought about making a smuppets hoodie? Or smuppet Winter Holiday decorations? Or just as dildo cozies where they cover the toy part so no can tell what you’re carrying around?”

You smile. “No,” you admit, “no, I haven’t.”

You have a feeling this is going to be a fun afternoon.


	3. the light returns

**== >Dirk: Be Dave currently **

You’re getting your turn holding Themma because everyone wants to see the human hold the baby troll. You’ve learned in home ec the basics of caring for human and troll grubs. Human babies need neck support but grubs hate having their necks touched (Themma snaps at your fingers enough times to prove that), so you end up holding her like a very small puppy.

You must still look uncomfortable because John starts laughing. “Dave, you look like you’re going to fall over if she bites you.”

“If she can massacre Equius’s hands, I’m scared of what she’ll do to mine.” You answer. Themma huffs and starts chewing on your shirt. 

“She _will_ bite if she smells fear.” Aradia says.

“Isn’t that charming?” You hold Themma away before she chews a hole in your shirt. “Is it okay for everyone to hold her like this? Like, if I hand her back to you she’s not going to flip the fuck out because your scent is weird?”

“It’s a grub, Strider, not a baby raccoon.” Karkat snaps a picture of you and Themma growls at the camera, wriggling in your hands. “Totally sending this to Mom. He loves grubs.”

A loud humming fills the air and all the lights in the trailer turn on. Your eyes dilate from the sudden light and you wince. Themma screeches, squeezing her eyes shut and waving her nubby arms.

“Holy shit!” Sollux looks at his iHusk, “I’m getting bars too. Everything’s coming back on.”

Aradia takes Themma from you, who’s starting to fuss. The sudden light must be awful on her giant eyes. “Awesome. It’ll be easier to fix Themma’s sleep schedule.”

“Thank god the power came back on.” John starts texting on his iHusk, “I can go to rehearsal tonight.”

“You have _rehearsal_?” you ask, “Why would they schedule it now knowing what you’ve gone through?”

John shrugs. “I have rehearsal or some other activity every other night really. Theatre is rigorous.” He leaves for the back porch, his ear pressed against his iHusk, “Hey, Quinoa? Yeah, it’s John. About tonight…”

You sigh. You had really hoped John would take it easy while his Mom was in the hospital, but it looks like that’s not happening. You should call Jade, who must be bored sitting at home. Everyone else is calling their relatives or quads, seeing if the power has turned back on and what the next plan of action is.

When you call Jade there’s a lot of noise in the background. It sounds like sewing machines and objects scraping across the floor.

“What’s going on…?” you ask.

“Just some post-electricity rearranging.” Jade says cheerily, “I’m not doing it though so no worries. Your Bro finally snapped out of his funk too. By the way, he doesn’t want you to come home for a while.”

“ _What_? How long of a ‘while’?”

“I don’t know. Hold on.” There’s a pause and Jade responds, “Maybe until four or five? He has a surprise and wants to do something really nice for you cause you’ve had a shit couple of days.”

“Something tells me you’re a part of this surprise bullshit.” You grumble.

“You don’t like surprises?” Jade whimpers.

You’re not fond of surprises since Bro’s ‘surprises’ tend to be smuppets dumped on your head but Jade’s voice is tugging on your heartstrings. It’s also really hard to say ‘no’ to someone carrying your child.

“It’s fine, Jade,” you sigh, “I’ll find _something_ to do. Love you.”

“Love you too!” Jade says, cheerily.

You hang up and see Karkat is snickering. You glare at him. “What? I can’t say ‘love you’ to my girl.”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about you being cute with your furry.” Karkat laughs.

“I’m not being cute.” You insist, “Also, Jade is cleaning or whatever so we can’t come go to the trailer until four. Apparently Bro is planning some sort of ‘surprise’.”

Karkat’s face falls. “What are we supposed to do until then?”

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I got cleaning to do and things to finagle about.” Aradia says. “There’s a draft in Themma’s room. I think a bullet went through there but I can’t find where the hole is.”

“What _does_ Themma’s room look like?” you ask.

Karkat pales but Aradia grins. “Come and see for yourself! We got it all decorated last month.” 

Themma’s bedroom looks like _The Addam’s Family_ crashed into whatever Equius’s favorite movie happens to be. Probably something horse related and incredibly muscular like _My Little Pony: Steroid Abuse is Magic_. There are preserved animals in jars and musclebeast posters that you do your best not to look directly at.

“Is her recuperacoon a tiny _coffin_ …?” Karkat mutters.

“Actually it’s a lawn decoration meant for a plastic cat skeleton to pop out of. Equius and I refurnished it so now it’s a recuperacoon. Our first project for our little girl.” Aradia places Themma insides the coffin recuperacoon. “The dead things in jars are from my own collection. They’re all real and Themma will inherit them after I die.”

You spy a specific jar hanging on a metal chain and grin. “Holy shit, where’d you get a musclebeast fetus? Is this real? It totally looks real. These are rare as shit.” You ignore the grossed out look Karkat is giving you.  

“I found it at a pawn shop and it’s _totally_ real.” Aradia wriggles her hands. “I had to open it and feel around but it’s very real, right down to the developing bone and skin. When I go to college, I’m taking some of my rarer findings to a professor of biology to see if they can identify them. Some of the creatures I’m not sure about, like the bottled ones Dualscar had.”

“Oh god.” Karkat mutters and backs out of the room, “Yeah, okay. Going to uh, head out. Maybe see if Eridan wants some help with his kids. Grubs. Eggs…”

You laugh and follow him. “Hold on, I’m coming.” You can’t miss an opportunity to tease Karkat about getting squeamish around dead things.

You get a ride back to Sollux’s. John hitches along in order to get dropped at the bus stop while crabcakes and you head to the Captor trailer. The Captor trailer smells like potpourri and Eridan is wiping down the living room floor. Mituna is furiously playing Condescension of Duty.

“Ever since the power came back on, he’s been like that.” Eridan says, “Completely glued to the TV.”

“Where’s Mom?” Sollux asks.

“Asleep in her room with the eggs.”

You know Sollux’s mother had been sick since she collapsed and no one wants to talk it. People get sick every day in the Ninth Ward, humans included. Karkat visits Latula in the back room but you don’t. If you’re uncomfortable seeing Jake laid up in the hospital—unmoving, pale, and relying on a machine to breathe for him—you doubt you can tolerate Latula in her current state. You help Eridan clean up the kitchen and do multiplayer with Mituna. It’s been years since you played a game with good graphics but you still exploit the hell out of glitches. Eventually Sollux joins in and time passes quickly.

At four, you decline another round of CoD, saying, “I’ve got to head to my place for a ‘fun surprise’. Hopefully it’s not smuppets on my head.”

“If it is, I plan to take video.” Karkat says.

“If Strider’s getting assaulted by plush ass again, I plan to be there to witness it.” Sollux says.

“Sol, you’re going to leave me at home again?” Eridan huffs, “This isn’t _fair_! You get to do all the fun stuff and I’m stuck at home like Troll June Cleaver!”

“Get an eggsitter?” Sollux suggests.

“You’re not leaving me alone here again!” Eridan yells, “I want to be the one to see smuppets dumped on Strider’s head!”

“We don’t know if that’ll happen.” You say.

“Oh my fucking god! _Fine_.” Sollux groans, “I’ll stay here and watch the eggs and you can go if you’ll quiet bitching.”

“I am not ‘bitching’!” Eridan insists.

“Let’s just _go_ already.” Karkat groans.

You walk to the trailer. There’s a sprinkle of rain but it’s not anything you’re unused to. As soon as you open the door, a familiar smell wafts out. It takes you a minute to realize its pumpkin spice and gingerbread. The living room is clean and decorated. The pull-out couch has festive Winter Holiday sheets with mistletoe and Santa Huss’s reindeer-centaur lusii dancing around. Blinking Winter Holiday lights are strung along the wall with smuppets hanging next to them. There are Santa Huss smuppets, Zephyr Spirit smuppets, reindeer-centaur smuppets…gods, it’s like Santa Huss and Jim Lomax conspired to decorate your trailer.

In the far corner of the room is a plastic Winter Holiday tree and Bro is sifting through a box of ornaments. He must have gotten it out of storage. He smiles at you, looking like the most awkward person in the room. Kankri is hanging up the last of the lights, looking over at you.

“Surprise.” Bro says, “I know its not much but I thought that it would be…nice…to just decorate the house a bit. Winter Holiday is next month. I think it’s what Jake would want us to do.”

Jake had always been the Winter Holiday guy while Bro and you had always been neutral on it. It was a stupid, commercialized holiday that people trudged through because it was traditional. Jake didn’t care though. He loved everything about Winter Holiday, even if it was schmaltzy and stupid. He went out on Black Friday, watched holiday movies and TV specials, ate holiday food, and didn’t care how unmanly he looked in a poofy sweater.  

You should really be flipping your shit about your Bro his weird smuppet fetish but you quietly say, “Thanks, Bro. This looks nice.”

There are footsteps in the kitchen and Rose walks out. She’s lost weight and her hair is still growing, not even close to a half-inch in length. She holds a tray piled high with blobby gingerbread men.

 

 

“Anyone want gingerbread?” Rose asks.

“Rose…” you whisper, “Rose…w-what are you…”

You go silent because you have no fucking clue how to handle this. Even Karkat and Eridan are staring, temporarily drained of all sass.

“The Cherubs are gone.” Rose says, smiling, “I’m free now.”

“Rose…you…” You can’t think of proper words. You move in to hug her.

Rose hands off the cookie tray to Kankri and hugs you back. “I missed you too, Dave.” she whispers.

A camera snaps and you look over to see Jade ducking out of the bedroom with her iHusk. She smiles and walks over. “I couldn’t resist. You two looked so cutehugging like that.”

Another camera snaps, this time from Karkat’s iHusk. “Oh, they definitely do. It’s not smuppets getting dumped on Strider’s head but I’ll take this embarrassing moment just the same.”

“I have to tell Kan! She’s going to flip!” Eridan squeals. He looks at Rose. “People are allowed to know you’re here, right?”

Rose nods. “Yes. I’m back for good according to the NJPD.”

There’s an immediate rush for the gingerbread cookies and a flurry of questions for Rose. Kanaya arrives quickly and hugs Rose just as tightly as you did. She comes with Porrim and Rufioh, who bring hot chocolate packets from their emergency kits and more tree decorations. Bro remains at the other side of the trailer, hanging back and playing it cool. Feferi arrives with Meenah and starts a lively conversation with Jade about what religion you’re baptizing your child as. Porrim is snickering about some gossip with Kankri. It must be interesting because Karkat is eavesdropping.

“Gods, I hope people don’t start getting pregnant again. It’s crowded enough around here.” Karkat mutters.

“Karkat, you have three kids.” you say.

“ _Two_!” Karkat insists, “Just the two and its going to stay that way. Stop jinxing me.”

“Ten boons say he’s knocked up before graduation.” Tavros mutters and ducks behind Jade before Karkat can aim a kick in his direction.

Roxy arrives lavishing all her embarrassing attention on Rose. You notice Bro is outside and don’t make much of it. Everybody needs alone time.

Eridan pokes a smuppet nose. “Gods, these things are weird. They’re like dildos with bodies.”

“You would totally be into that scene.” Sollux says. He looks at Feferi. “Fef, I thought you were at the hospital doing some prayer thing?”

“It’s called faith healing,” Feferi corrects, “and I was there for most of the afternoon. We were having a prayer circle for Ms. Egbert in the hopes that her body will be healed along with her soul.”

“Riveting.” you say.

It’s then Aranea arrives with G.I. Troll, carrying a platter of wrapped cookies. “Look what I found on sale at Stop and Shop!”

“It took a while because she ate most of the original platter we got.” Horuss sighs.

Aranea elbows him, “I didn’t get a chance to have my lunch break!”

“Thankfully we got this much.” Kankri mutters, eyebrows arched.

“Do you see Dad…?” Rufioh quietly asks, but Aranea pretends not to hear him.

“Dad?” Rose asks, “I haven’t heard about _this_ development.”

“Oh, it’s a _long_ story,” Aranea grumbles, “but to make it short, my father—the Summoner—who was supposedly dead is suddenly alive and thinks he can make amends for everything that has happened over these past twenty-something years.”

“Doesn’t look aged a day past twenty either.” You say, “It’s totally a spooky mystery. My theory is that he was abducted by aliens and just got beamed back to the planet. Been preoccupied travelling the galaxy with the secret Illuminati lizard people that supposedly run the Canzian government.”

“I’d take that ridiculous theory to any nonsense he’s bound to have cooked up to explain his disappearance and reappearance.” Aranea sniffs.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen an O.G. troll, not up close at least.” Jade says, “I was asleep by the time he came around. Are they really that different from the rest of you?”

Aranea brightens up immediately. “Oh, there are a multitude of differences between our generation and our parent’s generation. It all begins on the home planet Old Alternia. You see, Old Alternian culture—“

Its then Aranea launches into a long boring dialogue about troll cultural differences. Jade gives you her patented secret smile and you take Rose by the arm and sneak off with her to the back of the trailer. Bro is still outside but the party is continuing just the same.

“Why’d you decide to come out now?” you whisper, “Is it safe?”

Rose nods. “My mother talked with Investigator Quan. It would look suspicious if I’m still ‘disappeared’ after all this time. The Cherubs have spent all their energy attacking us. They can’t do anymore with the police scrutinizing this place.”

“Why do you think they did it?” It’s the one thing you’ve never understood. Why shoot up your neighborhood? Why go through the risk of getting caught?

“I don’t know.” Rose says plainly, “I used to think that Scrate was some Machiavellian plotter who would bring my downfall and infinite sorrow by arranging a series of unfortunate events, scheming like a genius and always being two steps ahead until I would fall into his trap like a bloated, clumsy fly. Then I realized that although one must have a certain wit and intelligence for the organized crime business, it rarely lasts forever. Sooner or later you get caught. All it takes is one slip up to destroy a vast empire. The Cherubs wanted to make an example out of me. Then they wanted to make an example out of all of us, but they didn’t expect us to fight back so viciously.” She frowns. “Or maybe they did and they needed a dust cloud to conceal something else.”

“Like what?” You ask, thinking Rose is going back to her ‘Machiavellian plotter’ theory.

“They never found Scrate.” She says, “When the police went to raid his apartment in the Red Quad, it triggered an explosion. A fire destroyed all the evidence sitting in that place. The police sifted through it but Scrate was long gone by the time the order to kill went through. Maybe he planned this months in advance but was just looking for the right circumstances to do it? Maybe this is all an excuse to clean house?” She shrugs. “I’ll be damned if I ever figure out what went on in his mind.”

“It’s all in the past now. The Cherubs are gone and we can continue our lives.” You smile. “I’m just glad to have you back.”

“I’m glad to be back.” Rose says, “Being in the safe house change me, Dave. In my darkest moment’s I saw the light. It was long and hard but I’ve decided to convert to Orthodoxianism because Jegus Sufferer is my beloved savior. I’m going to become a dolor and join a commune up north. The only reason I came here was to ask if you would give me your blessing before I leave.”

“Well, uh…shit. I don’t know…I’m not really the religious type, Rose…”

Rose laughs. “Oh my gods! You can’t tell when I’m fucking with you anymore?”

You hit her in the shoulder as she starts laughing. “Not cool, Lalonde! You never know what happens to people when they go off for a long time!”

“Oh _please_ , Strider,” Rose laughs, “I got even heavier into the occult stuff since Callie sent me her books. I’ve been studying them rigorously to keep myself preoccupied. I’ve built up quite the collection, from the Alternian Book of the Dead to the Key of Troll Solomon. It’s all _very_ fascinating. I can’t wait to share all the lurid rituals and lore I’ve collected.”

“You’re being as boring as Aranea,” you say, offering her your arm, “Let’s get some eggnog before Kankri drinks it all.”

“I’d be delighted.” Rose says, taking your arm.

You lead her back to the party. It’s a weekday but you doubt most of you are going to be heading off to work right away just that the power is on, since you have generators to put back into storage and food to buy. The party starts winding down around nine and by ten, people are saying their goodbyes and heading for home. At the end of the night, it’s just Rose, Karkat, and you since Jade fell asleep and you had to haul her to the bedroom. Bro is still outside chilling or maybe he’s upstairs by now. You’re still giving him all the space he needs.

“Where’s Egbert at? He should be talking with Rose.” says Karkat.

“John’s a workaholic is why.” you say, rolling your eyes.

“He wouldn’t be John if he wasn’t.” Rose says, calmly.

It’s then there’s a knock at the door. “Daaaave. I have the key but for some reason the hole keeps moving.” comes the slurred voice behind the door.

You know from that tone that John must have decided Monday night was a great time to drink with his theatre pals. You open the door and John stumbles through with a neon green band around his wrist and wearing clip-on shades. He also reeks of alcohol.

“John, its almost _eleven_. Where have you been?” you ask. You’re not annoyed. You’re completely calm. You were just worried. Okay, you’re a _little_ mad.

“Rehearsing and shit…” John scrubs his eyes and looks around the living room. “What in the hell?”

“Nice shades, John.” Rose snickers, “Are you mutating into a Strider now?”

“I won them.” John pauses and looks at Rose. He takes off the shades and you see his eyes are bloodshot. “ _Rose_ …?”

Rose smiles. “In the flesh, dork.”

John gulps and pockets the shades. “I…I thought you were. I mean I just.” He inhales slowly. “Holy shit. What are you doing here? Is it…safe for you to be here?”

Rose nods. “Yes. It’s over.”

John pauses and then looks down. “We should definitely…talk.” He sighs. “Shit, I wish we could go to my room but the police’s cleared out everything. Jegus, this is wild.”

“We could walk to my place if you’re up to it.” Rose chuckles.

“Sure,” John mutters, “Totally sure. I can walk.” He takes one more look around the room and mutters, “Whoa. That puppet has…antlers.”

“Bro decided to do some decorating. Bring in the season.” You grumble.

“Ha!” John laughs a little too loudly and puts his arm around Rose. “That is so awesome! They’re awesome. All weird and felty and shit.”

“What? You think smuppets are fucking creepy!” you say.

“What? Nah. They’re so awesome. They look all happy and shit. I love these guys.” John says, eyes on Rose.

They leave the trailer for parts unknown as far as you’re concerned.

Karkat looks at you. “Is it me or was John high?”

“Not my concern.” You decide. You’re not John’s mother. As long as he’s with Rose, that’s one less concern for your friend.


	4. fresh air

**== >Dave: Be your Bro a few hours into the past  **

Gods, you’ve never felt so nervous in your fucking life. You really can’t take dealing with all these people in your personal space. You have no idea how social butterflies like Roxy and Jake constantly tolerate this. You’re just glad everyone is overjoyed to see Rose again. They’re also distracted enough to leave you alone.

You breathe in the humid air. Winter is here in New Jack and although you haven’t had snow in fifty years, you do experience freezing rain, ice, and cold snaps. The air isn’t cold though; it’s soupy with warm fog. You have no doubt that some of it is toxic, lifted from the chemical runoff deep in the swamp or the fenced off areas that are too hazardous even to the most ambitious suburban spelunkers.

You hear a swooping above you. It’s too small to be a plane and too large to be a bird. It must be Petros and you hear him land on the side of the trailer.

“It’s fine. _Really_.” you hear him say, “Yeah, she’s still mad but it’s going to be a while before things work out. There’s another long pause and Petros sighs. “I know. It’s fine. Alright.”

The conversation ends then and Petros heaves a heavy sigh. He walks around the back of the trailer and sees you. He looks tranquil but there’s trouble in his eyes; the look you wore all the time back in Leder.

“Hey.” you say.

“Hey.” Petros says.

“Any reason you’re using the back door?” you ask.

“Aranea is here. We’re not on good terms…I don’t want to make a scene…” He frowns. “I might not even go in.” His responses are never immediate. They’re distant and he chews over every word before saying, He looks you up and down. “You must be Dirk.”

“It’s nice that you know my name but I don’t know yours.” It’s a lie but a formality when dealing with stranger. Kankri’s talked of nothing but suspicion concerning Petros Nitram, along with Karkat’s crush on the far older brownblood.

“Petros Nitram…” he says, distracted.

You stare at the troll and conclude Karkat must have a strong failure complex when it comes to quadrants, as he insists on picking the most difficult targets. You watch him steadily and don’t move from the spot. Petros doesn’t move either.

You’re both silent and finally you concede, “It looks like you have more baggage than I do.”

Petros sighs and shoulders slump a little. “You have _no_ idea.” he admits.  

For once, it’s not a distant or calculated response. “I may not understand but I can compare and contrast. We’re people whose history leave scars while others just have memories. Now you can go in there”—you gesture to the backdoor—“and deal with a lot of people who may or may not understand, or we can chill out here and shoot the shit. Either way, I don’t want to go in there right now, and I don’t think you want to either.”

Petros walks over to the porch and sits.

“Fine.” he agrees.

You sit and don’t talk. You both know that silence is really your only way of translating understanding.

**Author's Note:**

> Credit goes to insecure illustrator (http://insecureillustrator.tumblr.com) for making the holiday smuppet background that inspired this whole story.


End file.
